


Hands All Over

by Achrya



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Codependency, Feels, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Sub Tony Stark, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>In hindsight Bruce can see he was being arrogant when he took on the job to be a live-in sober companion for Maria Stark’s son. He’d expected an annoying, but not overly exciting, 8 weeks</em><br/><em>What he’d gotten was a brilliant, tempting, and troubled man, fresh out of rehab (again) and throwing himself at anything and everything, blaring music so loud it made Bruce’s teeth ache, doing consulting work for the NYPD, bringing home strangers and asking them to tie him up, use him, and hurt him, constantly taunting, teasing, pushing, provoking, and always always thinking</em><br/> </p><p>(The Elementary AU ficlet that no one ever asked for that's actually more about cages and bondage than anything else)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands All Over

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t own  
> Un’beta’d  
> Pairing: Bruce/Tony  
> Notes: ...Sometimes I have weird thoughts. This is one of those weird thoughts. I don’t know if it’s gonna go anywhere else, though it certainly wants to be.  
> Tumblr (not there's much to it because it confuses me) [It's a pretty color at least](http://achryadama.tumblr.com/)

Bruce was, essentially, trapped in the proverbial gilded cage.

In hindsight he can see he was being arrogant when he took on the job to be a live-in sober companion for Maria Stark’s son. Of course at the time he didn’t really know much about Tony beyond that he was in rehab and whatever had gone down had been very bad.

He’d expected someone cocky, insufferable, and stubborn. Basically the typical rich kid gone down the bad path routine, he’d dealt with it once or twice before.

He’d expected an annoying, but not overly exciting, 8 weeks and that was where the arrogance came in.

What he’d gotten was a brilliant, tempting, and troubled man, fresh out of rehab (again) and throwing himself at anything and everything, blaring music so loud it made Bruce’s teeth ache, doing consulting work for the NYPD, bringing home strangers and asking them to tie him up, use him, and hurt him, constantly taunting, teasing, pushing, provoking, and always always thinking.

He hadn’t wanted Bruce around at all but Mrs. Stark’s conditions had been clear: cooperate or be cut off. It hadn’t been Bruce’s idea of a good time either; being hired through a third party for someone who claimed to not need or want help, it basically went against the very foundation of what he believed in.

People who do not want help cannot be helped.

The money had done wonders to sway him. Not that Bruce was all about money, the opposite really. He usually worked with people who had little to their name and that was how he liked it, helping those who needed him most, but he needed the occasional high paying job to make that possible.

A short well paying job. Easy. Finish it up and get back to helping those who needed and wanted his help.

But something about Tony had drawn him in almost immediately. He had a pull, like gravity, and the minute Bruce had walked into his brownstone he’d been dragged into orbit, just another part of the strange and often dangerous universe that revolved around Tony Stark.

Bruce had seen so many dead bodies and had so many guns waved in his face that it was actually starting to become more normal than it had any right to be.

The 8 weeks had gone past then another and another but he remained at the brownstone with Stark. There wasn’t much justification to it, not any he could share with anyone anyway because of some big heavy words. Words like professionalism, inappropriate work relationships, imbalance of power, and taking advantage of mentally unstable clients. Even worse, Tony used sex like a weapon, a way to control, subdue, or drive others away and even knowing that Bruce had gotten involved. It wasn't Tony's fault, not really, because Bruce knew better.

It was wrong. He was fully aware of the many things that were wrong and unhealthy about his relationship with Tony, he thought about them often. It weighed on him, constantly. He couldn’t even look at Tony, couldn’t touch him, without thinking about what all of his former clients and colleagues would say if they could see him.

He worried that, in spite of himself, he was nothing more another game piece to Tony. Something strange and exciting to play with and use like so many other things in his life. Yes, Tony claimed to find him amazing, exceptional even, someone he could talk to without worrying about him keeping up or understanding, an equal where there had never been one before.

But amazing and exceptional were just different ways of saying ‘curiosity'.

Tony claimed that he grounded him and, in the still darkness of his bedroom, he insisted that Bruce helped quiet his brain like nothing else could. He was better than drugs, better than alcohol, and better than working cases for the NYPD.

He suspected Tony meant it to be sweet or romantic, as close as he ever got to it, but really it was a trap. A trap built with pretty words from pretty lips and a terrifying one at that because Bruce didn’t want to escape it.

He ran his hand up the younger man’s thigh, smiling faintly at the way Tony trembled below him. He paused over the swell of his ass, bright red and radiating heat, then stepped back to look at the other man. His wrists were bound together and stretched out above his head to be tied to the headboard. A soft golden scarf was around his eyes and a deep red ball was between his lips; his face was flushed and wet.

He reached out and swiped his thumb over Tony’s cheek; the younger man shifted, pressing up into the touch. Tony was like that, always arching closer and straining to get more, deeper, faster.

He liked playing, or perhaps craved would be a more accurate way to put it if he was being completely honest with himself, Tony’s games. Pinning him down, binding him, making him stretch out and present for him, the way he squirmed underneath his hands in pain and want, hearing the quiet gasps, whines, and cries...Bruce enjoyed those things, there was no real point in denying that. 

It was, however, when Tony was loose and blissed out, drifting happily and willing to be taken care of and held close, that was what made everything else worth it.

That was the trap. Tony never looked so calm, so near happy, as he did in those moments and no matter how much sense it made to walk away he just couldn’t take that from him. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, there is an actual idea/thought process for this strange Elementary AU, in which Tony is Sherlock and Bruce is Joan. 
> 
> Bruce, having left science behind because trying to make drugs to make better soldiers is shockingly soul sucking, becomes a sober companion. Maria Stark hires him to look after her very troubled son. Tony is brilliant, rude, shameless, brash, insane and falling apart. He works with the NYPD to help solve strange cases for funsies. Bruce is a professional. He knows Tony’s type, can see he uses sex and attraction like a weapon. He knows staying uncompromised has never been more important, yet he’s never fallen harder or faster.
> 
> I’m picturing Tony as a massive asshole, Bruce full of long suffering sass, super inappropriate working relationships, subby!Tony, and spanking. Because reasons. Coulson would be the police captain, Fury's the commissioner who green lights Tony working with the cops. Sam, Clint, and Tasha are detectives, Bucky is Tony’s AA sponsor/casually stalks Sam because Sam is amazing. 
> 
> I don't know if this will continue past this little ficlet or not. I guess I'm trawling for opinions? ...yeah. I'll just see myself out.


End file.
